


Like Mother Like Son

by handwritten (onefromanotherworld)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Fluff and Angst, Gen, slight spoiler for Thor 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onefromanotherworld/pseuds/handwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He is not my father!'<br/>‘Then, am I not your mother?’</p><p>Frigga is possibly the most influential adult in the upbringing of the young prince of Asgard Loki. These are just a few of the most important moments of their relationship, of how much he really learnt from her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Mother Like Son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astralsakura23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralsakura23/gifts).



> None of the characters are mine, if they were none of you would know about them. This is not betaed as my beta is the recipient of this story :P

From very young Loki always found solace and refuge in knowledge, which was why, whenever Frigga needed to find him, she would always look first in the library. One fine morning, when he was but a few years old, she found him amidst three towers of books, a fort if you will, leafing through a heavy tome on his lap, trying his hardest not to sob.

'What is wrong, little one? Why do you cry?’ she asked while crouching to his eye level.

  
‘I am not _crying_ ’, he said with a broken voice. ‘The sons of Odin do not cry.’

  
‘You are right, they don’t. My sons, however, can cry when warranted’, she smiled. ‘Now, tell me, what have you got there?’ she pointed at the book he kept looking at to avoid her mother’s gaze.

  
‘I am looking for a way to turn Volstagg into a toad. He said I am not worthy of being a prince of Asgard and then hit me.’

  
Frigga took the volume gently from his hands and said ‘I am afraid what you need is not in here, but I can offer you something better’, and with the flick of her hand she made appear a perfect double of Loki.

The young prince was confused for a moment, but he then braced himself and left his paper refuge to stand in front of his copy. He prodded him right between the eyes to ascertain if he was real, and then lifted his own left hand while the copy lifted his right one. After a while of trying out the mirroring, he tried to hit the exposed belly of the other one but failed as the reflection moved out of the way. Loki tried to catch his clone a few times before seeing it vanish in front of his eyes. He turned around to see his mother and beamed. ‘Could you teach me?’

'And so much more, little one', she said.

 

* * *

 

As the years passed Loki used the memory of his clone to keep him motivated to learn the difficult art of magic. Sometimes he remembered his young self thinking he would be able to turn someone into an amphibian just by saying some magic words and laughed at his naivety. Truth was that magic was very difficult to master. It needed not only theory and practice but great control of oneself.

'Focus, Loki.’ Frigga repeated him for the tenth time that session alone. ‘Focus on the end result and let your emotions flow. Remember that magic relies on your emotions to work, they are a powerful thing. Trust them. Learn to control them and nothing will be able to stop you'.

It was a true statement, Loki knew. But he couldn’t help it if emotions were more manageable when trying to trick someone. Magic was so malleable then, as he needed only a simple idea: fun. However, when it was needed far more, such as valour, hate, pride, fear, or simply love, he found obstacles over and over again. He didn’t know how to channel most of them, not at will, and he didn’t trust himself to remember a moment when he had felt them in order to use them. Then again, he had seen many warriors being distracted and defeated by their own emotions. They seemed more a weakness than a strength.

'But emotions can't be trusted', he said.  
‘Oh but they can.’ His mother answered immediately, as if she had expected that argument from him. ‘Emotions are always true, no matter how hard you try to deny them. Emotions can give away your intentions and that of your enemies. Which is why it is important for you to know how to read their truth.’

Over and over he tried and failed, until he realized it was not necessary for him to expose his own emotions, but that he could use what he had learnt in stories and what he read in others. Little by little he learnt to remember at a moment’s notice the courage his Father claimed to have felt when fighting on other realms, the happiness of his brother when playing with his friends, the amazement when he saw his mother demonstrate a new skill for him to learn. Frustration, joy, anger, fear, love, patience, it all came to him one at a time, whispering the truth of the world that surrounded him. Little by little he learnt to trust them and follow their lead when needed. The moment he achieved all of this, he started trusting the words of his mother and felt unstoppable. That is, until a weapon was placed in his hands.

 

* * *

 

‘Again!’ Frigga said while walking back to the center of the room, perfectly composed and hardly out of breath in spite of having been training with her youngest for over an hour now.

Loki let his sword fall to the floor and said without looking up to see his mother ‘I cannot. I am not Thor.’

‘Exactly’, his mother replied. She saw him tense at her words but kept going. ‘You are not Thor, therefore you should not try to fight like him. Stop comparing yourself to your brother, you are two different people and it is time you understood that.’ At that, Loki lifted his head curious.

‘But he is stronger, he will always be stronger… and better’, her son insisted.

‘You may lack the strength of your brother but you do have resources of your own, do you not?’ Loki smirked at that. Now she had his attention. ‘Take a look at Sif or at Fandral, they are more physically similar to you, yet they do not let this tamper with their ability to fight. They have learnt to work with their own strengths and have gain respect as warriors because of that. Observe them and learn from their mistakes.’ Frigga let an illusion form in front of them, showing Loki how each of them moved during a fight. ‘See how they always keep the enemy at more than at arm’s length? They keep the enemy at bay, the make the most of their speed. If you were to get too close, though, do whatever is needed to push them away, use your feet, your arms… even your words to buy time, to learn whatever you can that will work in your favour and use it. And if everything fails’ she smiled wickedly, ‘always keep one of this at hand’ she said as she handed him a dagger.

He went to her and took the smaller weapon, taking the time to study it. ‘Why do you do this, mother? Why is it so important to you that I become a good warrior when I could do so much more with my studies?’ the young boy said suddenly, making the illusion vanish.

She stared at him for a moment before answering, cupped his face and said ‘Because you need to be prepared. You are a prince of Asgard and you have a duty to defend your people and your loved ones, all the realms, when needed. It is important to me because one man can make the difference when winning or losing a war. I care because I know you, I see you wishing to be able to share with your brother and his friends. I do this because I know you can be one of the best warriors this kingdom has ever seen and, most importantly, because I love you and I want you to be strong in your own way and live no matter what.’

She put some distance between them and said. ‘Shall we continue, then?’ He simply nodded and picked up his sword. ‘Remember, you have far more weapons that the piece of metal in your hand’.

 

* * *

 

Looking back, he may have had taken things too far.  Despite everyone in Asgard knowing Loki was a prankster, people still didn’t know when to acknowledge a good prank when they saw it. True, in the past he may have gotten some undesired side-effects, like the time he had tried to see how Sif would look like with dark hair and then couldn’t change it back, or the time when he had filled the water with dead bugs, or the time when he had accidentally set fire to the stables…

But in the end they all had been harmless, as this one. It had taken him so long to master the trick and he had timed it beautifully. Thor had challenged him to a practice fight but had gotten carried away by the cheers of his followers; Loki, naturally, had had to take it up a notch too. As a result, Thor had lost his sword hand to the eyes of the audience. Of course, it was all an illusion but the people had given in to hysterics too fast and Loki had been dragged to the throne room faster than one of Heimdall’s naps. He did hope for a private audience, but the people would have none of that. He had maimed the prince to the throne, he was to pay. 

While Odin heard the testimonies Loki took a moment to see those who wanted him punished. He focused on each one’s feelings. After years of training he had become fairly good at reading people’s emotions. He saw the soldiers and felt rage; the trainers felt fear; Thor’s friends, disgust and contempt; Thor himself was in shock but mostly felt sadness and confusion, but also something akin to admiration. Then, Loki made the mistake to focus on Odin and all he felt was rage, betrayal and something he couldn’t name, he got the impression that Odin had been expecting something like this to happen for quite some time. Loki felt humiliated, not for being judged about one of many pranks but for the fact that everyone in the room considered him as stupid or useless as to put Asgard’s heir’s days as a warrior to an end. _Let them think that_ , he decided. _I will not restore Thor’s hand if they think me capable of something as absurd_.

He prepared to receive Odin’s punishment, which was suited now that he had made up his mind to leave his brother an amputee. Just as Odin opened his mouth to sentence, Frigga spoke ‘That is enough, Loki’.

Loki smirked. Of course his mother would be the one not to be fooled by a simple trick. He raised his head to look at her, nodded, and let the illusion fall with a snap of his fingers.

The audience gasped and awed as they saw Thor’s hand back on its place as if nothing had happened. Loki perceived then fear and distrust from most; awe and pride from his brother; disgust from his father and nothing from his mother.

Yes, he had taken things a bit too far but had received something in return for his effort. While it was true that he was to remain locked for a week, at least Thor and his friends finally deemed him worthy in a battle and had invited him along to hunt in a few days. He heard his door open and the footsteps of his mother approaching. She was the only one who would defy Odin’s orders of him not having any visitors. She sat on the bed next to him and said ‘You let your emotions take control of you instead of the other way around. For that, I agree with your father’s punishment. That trick with the hand, however —she smiled, he felt her pride— was very clever’.

 

* * *

  
One late afternoon Loki went to her mother’s rooms to study and keep her company for a while. The moment he went in, however, he felt something was wrong though he could not identify the actual problem. He looked around the room: There was the warm golden glow that seemed to cover every surface of his mothers quarters, as usual; Frigga was sitting at her loom, next to the window, focused on the task at hand; the fire had been lit already. Everything was in its place and as it should be. Yet, Loki could sense it was not really the case. 

  
‘Mother…?’ he began.

  
‘Yes, dear?’ she said without taking her eyes off of the loom.

  
‘Is everything alright?’

  
Frigga smiled. Loki still had a long way to go but it was already difficult to fool him.

  
‘Close your eyes, what do you feel?’

  
He did as told ‘Rage.’

  
‘Very good. Focus on it, trust my rage and follow it. Now open your eyes, what do you see?’

  
When he opened his eyes again he found a very different scenario. The fire was almost extinguished, the room was cold and darkened, as if the colors had been robbed of their light, and Frigga was no longer at her loom but sitting on one of the windowsills, her dress torn, and her hair loose but for a few strands, her eyes red from crying. He gasped and ran next to her, dropping his book on the way.

  
‘There is no need to be alarmed, little one. Now you see me.’ She said placing a hand on top his head.

‘What happened, mother? Who did this? I will make them pay!’ he said looking up at her.

‘Everything is alright. I did this. The loom showed me something rather undesirable and I was not able to take it well.’ She tried to smile but it was far from her usual happy and warm one.

  
‘Do you want me to…?’

  
‘No, it is nice to have someone who is finally able to see.’ she said and took his hand between hers. 

Loki kept his mother company for a while, not disguising the truth she was allowing him nor inquiring about the cause, for he knew his mother would not talk about the future. It was her burden to carry and she would do it alone. They shared that reality in silence right until the moment the maids arrived to prepare the room for the night. When they opened the door, they found everything as it was supposed to be, not one thing out of place.

As Loki left his mother to instruct the maids on something or other, he walked to the loom, trying to see what had made her so upset. He knew he would not able to actually read it, nevertheless, he did manage to understand one idea: Jotunheim. Whatever had affected Frigga to that extent, it had to do with that realm and he would make sure it never came true.

 

* * *

  
Another afternoon, some seasons later, Loki asked from the very windowsill he had found his mother that one day whether she would be teaching him the art of the loom soon.

‘Little knowledge is a dangerous thing’ was her answer.

  
Loki frowned and closed his book. ‘I have knowledge. I have studied and trained more than most people in this palace ever have.’ He said turning to look at her.

  
‘Yet you lack wisdom. Wisdom to know there are things you cannot change’, she said sadly.

Loki thought back again of that memory that hunted most of his days, he remembered his mother mourning for the future yet to come. He needed more information to stop her from suffering but he knew well not to ask about Jotunheim by now. He lacked the tools to plan correctly or to state the problem to his Father. If only he could convince him or Thor of destroying that place and its inhabiting monsters before they could act… but his brother had his mind in other things, he was far too juvenile to ascend the throne and do what was right. Unless… The beginning of an idea started forming when his mother spoke again.

  
‘But I will teach you when you are ready, little one.’

  
‘I am not so little anymore’, he replied not daring to let her see his face in case she read the truth of his thoughts.

  
She looked surprised at him. ‘No, I believe you are not, but you cannot blame me for seeing you that way’. 

  
He simply closed his eyes and nodded. 

 

* * *

  
It had all happened so fast. In his wildest dreams he had never thought his journey to Jotunheim would result in his brother being exiled to Midgard and his father becoming unable to reign. Truth be told, in retrospective it was probably the only logical way to achieve his goal: eliminate the threat of Jotunheim once and for all, that way his mother would never have to suffer what she had already seen in the loom. What he was yet to understand that fate is not changeable and what is loomed is set.

He had learnt more than he had expected in the lapse of a few hours. He felt lost, unsure of who he was and what his role was now. He took a moment to take in the scene before him: his father… no, Odin, laid asleep, his brother was not present but still in their minds, only her mother seemed collected, aware of what needed to happen next. Only then did Loki understand that she knew already this was to happen, of course she did. For how long? he wondered. Sensing his nervousness and uncertainty, she went to him.

‘You are ready, li… my son. You can take you Father’s place. I’ll take care of him, you take care of Asgard. I trust you’

And she did trust him, he could tell. He could feel her pride and confidence in him, and then he realized something of the most importance: He may no longer be the son of Odin, but he was still **her** son, and he would make her proud. He would take care of everything and become the king Asgard needed.

 

* * *

  
She went to his cell one last time with a heavy heart. From the moment she set foot in it she could feel that his emotions did not match what she was seeing but she dared not try and break the illusion, as it would drive her son even farther away from her. She talked, he tried not to listen. Both of them portraying themselves in copies as tall, proud, and collected as they could manage, trying to respect the boundaries a few years of absence had settled between them. The minutes passed in the tensest conversation they had ever had, always hanging by a thread, thread that was finally broken with the mention of Odin.

'He is **not** my father!', he screamed  
‘Then, am I not your mother?’

Loki was taken aback. He wanted to scream _‘Of course! How could you not be? You, who raised me, taught me, comforted me and taught me to be the man I should be?_ ’ But in the back of his mind a thought kept haunting him, as it had since he had fallen to the void from the Bifrost, right to the claws of his worst nightmare. _But I have failed you, Mother. Didn’t I bring upon you the very pain I was trying to protect you from? I am not worthy of being called your son. I will not subject you to my burden._

  
‘You are not’, he said finally.

Her image disappeared leaving Loki’s behind but she did not go in reality, she stayed in his cell sitting right next to where his true form was, waiting for him to let her see. She fought the instinct to break the illusion, to really see his son and just comfort him. Loki wondered who would give in first, but they were both too stubborn and respectful of what they thought each other desired to act. She waited and waited, and when she could wait no longer, she closed her eyes and just whispered ‘Remember what I taught you about feelings? How they will always reveal the truth no matter how hard you try to deny it? I know you are hurt, disappointed, afraid, angry… I have listened to all they had to say and they have spoken the truth we both know, little one: You have always been and always will be my son.’ Loki turned his face to the place where her voice was coming from and let the illusion fall just for a second, just for her. ‘Never forget that’, she said cupping his face as she always did when he was young and then she disappeared.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Más vale tarde que nunca, espero que te guste, sis :)


End file.
